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Augustine is a pivotal figure in the history of the concept of will, but what is his ‘theory of will’? This book investigates Augustine’s use of ‘will’ in one particular context, his dialogue On Free Choice of the Will, taking seriously its historical and philosophical form. First, it finds that the dialogical nature of On Free Choice of the Will has been missed, as exemplified by the unhistorical and misleading modern attributions of names to the speakers. Secondly, the commonplace that Augustine changed his mind in the course of its composition is shown to be unfounded, and a case is made for its argumentative coherence. Thirdly, it is shown that it is the form and structure of On Free Choice of the Will that give philosophical content to Augustine’s theory of will. The dialogue constitutes a ‘way in to the will’ that itself instantiates a concept of will. At the heart of this structure is a particular argument that depends on an appeal to a first-person perspective, which ties the vocabulary of will to a concept of freedom and responsibility. This appeal is significantly similar to other arguments deployed by Augustine which are significantly similar to Descartes’ ‘cogito ergo sum’, ‘I think therefore I am’. The book goes on to investigate how Augustine’s ‘way in’ relates to these cogito-like arguments as they occur in Augustine’s major and most read works, the Confessions, the City of God, and On the Trinity. The relationship of Augustine’s to Descartes’ ‘cogito’ is also discussed. Augustine elucidates, within a particular Platonic theory of knowledge, a ‘theory of will’ that is grounded in a ‘way in’, which takes the conditions and limits of knowledge seriously.

What if there is no strong evidence that God exists? Is belief in God when faced with a lack of evidence illegitimate and improper? Evidentialism answers yes. According to Evidentialism, it is impermissible to believe any proposition lacking adequate evidence. And, if any thesis enjoys the status of a dogma among philosophers, it is Evidentialism. Presenting a direct challenge to Evidentialism are pragmatic arguments for theism, which are designed to support belief in the absence of adequate evidence. Pascal's Wager is the most prominent theistic pragmatic argument, and issues in epistemology, the ethics of belief, and decision theory, as well as philosophical theology, all intersect at the Wager. This book explores various theistic pragmatic arguments and the objections employed against them. It presents a new version of the Wager, the so-called ‘Jamesian Wager’, and argues that this survives the objections hurled against theistic pragmatic arguments and provides strong support for theistic belief. Objections found in Voltaire, Hume, and Nietzsche against the Wager are scrutinized, as are objections issued by Richard Swinburne, Richard Gale, and other contemporary philosophers. The ethics of belief, the many-gods objection, the problem of infinite utilities, and the propriety of a hope-based acceptance are also examined.

The humanity formulation of Kant’s Categorical Imperative demands that we treat humanity as an end in itself. Because this principle resonates with currently influential ideals of human rights and dignity, contemporary readers often find it compelling, even if the rest of Kant’s moral philosophy leaves them cold. Moreover, some prominent specialists in Kant’s ethics recently have turned to the humanity formulation as the most theoretically central and promising principle of Kant’s ethics. Nevertheless, despite the intuitive appeal and the increasingly recognized philosophical importance of the humanity formulation, it has received less attention than many other, less central, aspects of Kant’s ethics. This book is the most sustained and systematic examination yet of the humanity formulation. It argues that the ‘rational nature’ that must be treated as an end in itself is not a minimally rational nature consisting of the power to set ends or the unrealized capacity to act morally, but instead is the more properly rational nature possessed by someone who gives priority to moral principles over any contrary impulses. In other words, good will is the end in itself. This non-standard reading of the humanity formulation provides a firm theoretical foundation for deriving plausible approaches to particular moral issues. Contrary to first impressions, it does not impose moralistic demands to pass judgment on others’ character. This reading of the humanity formulation also enables progress on problems of interest to Kant scholars such as reconstructing Kant’s argument for accepting the humanity formulation as a basic moral principle, and allows for increased understanding of the relationship between Kant’s ethics and supposedly Kantian ideas such as ‘respect for autonomy’.

Some of the most interesting work in late-20th-century epistemology reintroduced, from ancient and medieval philosophy, the idea of an intellectual virtue and the related idea of proper epistemic function. But most of that work employed such concepts, with questionable success, in the interest of defining justification, warrant, or knowledge; and little or none of it offered detailed analyses of intellectual virtues. This book proposes and illustrates a different purpose for epistemology, one that we see in early modern thinkers, especially John Locke — namely that of guiding, refining, and informing the epistemic practices of the intellectual segment of the population. One important aspect of the project of such a ‘regulative epistemology’ is the intellectual character of the epistemic agent. For this purpose, fairly detailed sketches of particular intellectual virtues and of virtues' relations to epistemic goods, epistemic faculties, and epistemic practices, gain special importance. An underlying thesis is that a strict dichotomy between the intellectual virtues and the moral virtues is a mistake.

Rather than constituting a break with his Platonism, Augustine's doctrines of grace and free will are formed from the beginning by Platonist conceptions of happiness, wisdom, intellect, virtue, purification, conversion, faith, and love. Divine grace is inner help for the will, and our need for it expands “outward” over the course of Augustine's career, being required originally for attaining the happiness of wisdom (i.e., the intellectual vision of God), then for rightly ordered love (i.e., charity), and eventually for Christian faith. Reading the apostle Paul, Augustine emphasizes the difficulty of willing and loving the good, and eventually concludes that even the human choice to believe depends on grace, though this comes to us in the external words of a “suitable call,” which does not directly change the will from within. However, in his later polemics against Pelagianism, Augustine reconceives grace as wholly inward, a divine inner teaching that turns our will and causes us to believe. Since God foresees how he will give the gift of grace, this raises questions of predestination and especially election: why does God choose to bring some people rather than others to conversion, faith, and ultimate salvation? A more biblical and external doctrine of election, in which the chosen people are a blessing for those outside them, would avoid the anxieties of Augustine's doctrine of predestination.

This book contains in eight chapters the revised text of eight Gifford lectures, which were delivered at the University of St Andrews in 2003. The problem of evil may be formulated as a question addressed to theists: why would an all-powerful and benevolent God permit the existence of vast amounts of truly horrible suffering? Many reflective people are convinced that this question has no answer. The reasons that underlie this conviction can be formulated as an argument for the non-existence of God, the so-called argument from evil: if there were a God, he would not permit the existence of vast amounts of truly horrible suffering; since such suffering exists, there is no God. The examination of the problem of evil in these chapters is largely an examination of the argument from evil, which the author of the book regards as a paradigmatically philosophical argument. The conclusion of the main argument of the chapters (which takes the form of a debate centred on the ‘free-will defence’) is that the argument from evil is, like most philosophical arguments, a failure. The following topics receive special attention: the concept of God; success and failure in philosophical argument; versions of the argument from evil that depend on the vast amount of evil in the world and versions of the argument that depend on a particular evil, such as the Holocaust; the free-will defence; animal suffering; and the problem of the hiddenness of God.

This book provides a unified account of the will, pulling together a diverse range of phenomena that have typically been treated separately: intention, resolution, choice, weakness and strength of will, temptation, addiction, and freedom of the will. Drawing on recent psychological research, it is argued that rather than being the pinnacle of rationality, these components work to compensate for our inability to make and maintain sound judgments. Choice is the capacity to form intentions even in the absence of judgment of which action is best. Weakness of will is the failure to maintain resolutions in the face of temptation, where temptation typically involves a shift in judgment as to what is best, or, in cases of addiction, a disconnection between what is judged best and what is desired. Strength of will is the corresponding ability to maintain a resolution in the face of temptation, an ability that requires the employment of a particular faculty or skill. Finally, the experience of freedom of the will is traced to the experiences of forming intentions, and of maintaining resolutions, both of which require effortful activity from the agent.

If one is saved by faith alone in Jesus Christ, then what is the origin of that faith? Is it a preordained gift of God to elect individuals, or is some measure of human free choice involved? Initially, Philipp Melanchthon concurred with Martin Luther—that the human will is completely bound by sin, and that the choice of faith can flow only from God's unilateral grace. But if this is so, what about those whom God has not chosen? Is he not casting people into hell who never even had a chance? What are the pastoral implications for believers thinking about the nature of God and their own relationship to him? As a result of practical concerns such as these, aided by an intellectual aversion to paradox, Melanchthon came to believe that the human will does play a key role in the origins of a saving faith in Jesus Christ. This was not the Roman Catholic free will of Erasmus, however. It was a limited free will tied to justification by faith alone. It was an evangelical free will.

Though understandably overshadowed by Augustine’s preeminence in the West, Ambrose is a doctor of the Catholic Church and an important patristic authority for the Middle Ages and Reformation, especially in moral theology. Christian Grace and Pagan Virtue argues that Ambrose of Milan’s theological commitments, particularly his understanding of the Christian’s participation in God’s saving economy through baptism, are foundational for his virtue theory laid out in his catechetical and other pastoral writings. While he holds a high regard for classical and Hellenistic views of virtue, Ambrose insists that the Christian is able to attain the highest ideal of virtue taught by Plato, Aristotle, and the Stoics. This is possible because the Christian has received the transformative grace of baptism that allows the Christian to participate in the new creation inaugurated by Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection. This book explores Ambrose’s understanding of this grace and how it frees the Christian to live the virtuous life. The argument is laid out in two parts. In Part I, the book examines Ambrose’s understanding of human nature and the effects of sin upon that nature. Central to this Part is the question of Ambrose’s understanding of the right relationship of soul and body as presented in Ambrose’s repeated appeal to Paul’s words, “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Rom. 7:24). Part II lays out Ambrose’s account of baptism as the sacrament of justification and regeneration (sacramental and proleptic participation in the renewal of human nature in the resurrection). Ultimately, Ambrose’s account of the efficacy of baptism rests upon his Christology and pneumatology. The final chapters explain how Ambrose’s accounts of Christ and the Holy Spirit are foundational to his view of the grace that liberates the soul from the corruption of concupiscence.

To create a possible world is to actualize it strongly or weakly. A world is prime if God can create it and he cannot create a world better than it. This book's conclusions include: (1) If there is at least one prime world, then if God does create some world he will create one of them. (2) If there are no prime worlds, then it does not follow that God does not exist. Instead, what follows is that if God creates a world he will create one that is good enough, despite the fact that he could create a world which is better. (3) These conclusions do not give rise to a good objection to theism, based on the apparent fact that the actual world is improvable, and is not good enough. (4) Even if there is a best world, or several equal‐best worlds, God cannot create any of them. (5) A good partial theodicy for evil can be provided, appealing to goods bound up with human free will, moral responsibility, and the roles of individuals' own personal traits in shaping their own and other people's lives. The partial theodicy is neutral between theological compatibilism and libertarianism. (6) The problem of evil does not provide a very strong objection to the existence of God.

Buddhist ethical views have much in common with certain modern ethical theories, and contain many insights relevant to contemporary moral problems. This book examines the theoretical structure of the normative views found in a number of Indian and Tibetan Buddhist texts. Teachings from all three major traditions of Buddhism, the Theravāda, Mahāyāna, and Vajrayāna, are considered. Although Buddhist philosophy is quite diverse, and these traditions differ in their ethical perspectives, they can all be understood as versions of a general moral outlook known as welfarist consequentialism. Buddhist versions of consequentialism regard virtue as an intrinsic component of the good life. They range from the cautious indirect approach of the Theravāda, which focuses on following rules that lead to the welfare of many, to the bold and often shocking direct approach of the Vajrayāna. Buddhists can respond convincingly to certain often-discussed criticisms of consequentialism, including several powerful arguments due to Kant. Buddhist texts offer an interesting approach to the problem of the demands of morality. These texts also contain a powerful critique of what we would identify as the concept of free will, a critique which leads to a hard determinist view of human action. This view supports Buddhist values of compassion, nonviolence and forgiveness, and leads to a more humane approach to the justification of punishment.

Having been at the centre of a century long debate which cast doubt on the nature of Augustine’s conversion, one might assume that Augustine’s early works (386-96) have now been rescued and given their rightful place. This book suggests that these are now threatened by an equally destructive trend in Augustine scholarship, which, over the last fifty years, has become an almost unquestioned norm of interpretation. This is the idea, fatefully and poignantly depicted by Peter Brown in the chapter of his seminal biography entitled The Lost Future, that the early optimistic and philosophical Augustine was dramatically transformed into the mature, pessimistic theologian of the Fall, original sin, and grace by his reading of Paul in the mid-390s. This interpretation of the first decade of Augustine’s life has since become such an idée fixe in scholarly as well as popular accounts, leaving two very different Augustines: one, the young convert, fired to pursue Wisdom by an optimistic confidence in the rational disciplines of the liberal arts, human free will, and a glorious ideal of perfection; the other, the older and wiser bishop of Hippo, convinced of human fallen ness and of the need for grace to will or to do any good work. This book argues that in order to do justice to Augustine’s conversion, to his early theology and understanding of the Christian life, and to the early works themselves, such caricatures must be resisted. It seeks to demonstrate that there is a fundamental continuity in Augustine’s thought, which does not undergo any dramatic change when he re-reads Paul in the 390s; that there is only one Augustine, for whom human weakness and divine grace were the central axes of his Christian faith and life from the very beginning.

St Maximus the Confessor is one of the giants of Christian theology. His doctrine of two wills gave the final shape to ancient Christology and was ratified by the Sixth Ecumenical Council in ad 681. This study throws new light upon one of the most interesting periods of historical and systematic theology. Its historical focus is the 7th century, the century that saw the rapid expansion of Islam and the Empire’s failed attempt to retain many of its south-eastern provinces by inventing and promoting the heresy of Monothelitism (only one will in Christ) as a bridge between the Byzantine Church and the anti-Chalcedonian Churches that prevailed in some of these areas.

From the point of view of theology, the book examines, inter alia, the meaning of the terms person/hypostasis, nature/essence, and will in the context of Christology after the Council of Chalcedon (ad 451), with special reference to St Maximus. It also explores the monothelite and dyothelite Christologies of the 7th century, the complex question of the relation of the human will of Jesus Christ to his person, natures, and divine will, as well as his human obedience to God the Father and its soteriological significance. Moreover, The Byzantine Christ enhances our understanding of the theology of the Eastern Orthodox Church and of some of the reasons that distinguish it from the theology of both Western Christianity and the so-called Oriental Orthodox Churches.

In recent years, philosophical discussions of free will have focused largely on whether or not free will is compatible with determinism. In this challenging book, David Hodgson takes a fresh approach to the question of free will, contending that close consideration of human rationality and human consciousness shows that together they give us free will, in a robust and indeterministic sense. In particular, they give us the capacity to respond appositely to feature-rich gestalts of conscious experiences, in ways that are not wholly determined by laws of nature or computational rules. The author contends that this approach is consistent with what science tells us about the world; and he considers its implications for our responsibility for our own conduct, for the role of retribution in criminal punishment, and for the place of human beings in the wider scheme of things.

To have free will with respect to an act is to have the ability both to perform and to refrain from performing it. This book argues that no one can have practical reasons of a certain sort—“objective reasons”—to perform some act unless one has free will regarding that act. So we cannot have objective reasons to perform an act unless we could have done otherwise. This is reason’s debt to freedom. the book argues, further, for the thesis that various things we value, such as moral and prudential obligation, intrinsic value, and a range of moral sentiments that figure centrally in interpersonal relationships, presuppose our having free will. They do so because each of these things essentially requires that we have objective reasons, the having of which, in turn, demands that we have alternatives. Finally, the book distinguishes between two sorts of alternative, strong or incompatibilist alternatives and weak or compatibilist alternatives. Assuming, on the one hand, that obligation and some of the other things we value require strong alternatives, the book concludes that determinism precludes these things because determinism expunges strong alternatives. If, on the other hand, they require only weak alternatives, a chief compatibilist agenda of establishing the compatibility of these things with determinism without appeal to alternatives of any kind—the semi-compatibilist’s agenda—is jeopardized.